’ Her eyes narrowed. CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH THOUGHTS IN PRISON Part 1 The first night in prison she found it impossible to sleep. She had known that Remenham House would be deserted, for Martha—released, as she had carefully explained to her charge, by her vows to God from servitude and obedience to Nicholas Charvill, a mere mortal—had begun a correspondence with a friend of her youth, Mrs Joan Ibstock, née Pottiswick. His curiosity put itself into a question. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. “To the best of my belief, I have not a single English acquaintance in the city. She wore the most expensive athletic shoes money could buy in a fashionable black color with neon green laces.
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